


The Captain's Trial

by ThatGeekChick



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Adventure, Crafter, Drama, Firelizards, Pern, Sea, Seacraft, Seacrafter, Ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGeekChick/pseuds/ThatGeekChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Master Seacrafter Tiernan has been the Captain of the Seawing for 2 turns, and thus far has overcome all the troubles that he's come across. But when in a hurry to delivery valuable cargo to the Southern continent of Pern, he makes a bad decision that leaves him and his crew in the middle of a hurricane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Journey Begins

It was nearing midday and the sea was calm. Eerily so. There were no wherries in the air, no dolphins in the water. The winds had gone still, slowing the Seawing down to a bare crawl. The weather reports when they’d left Fort Sea Hold a sevenday prior had indicated a small storm, but Tiernan had a bad feeling about things. There was nothing scholarly about his feeling; it was more gut instinct than anything that could be solidly defined.

“Captain,” one of his deckhands called. “Should we turn around? Or try to maneuver around it?” Tiernan smiled in amusement. The deckhand was an apprentice, who they’d picked up at Fort Sea Hold. He had struggled with his seasickness for a few days, and was just now becoming adjusted to calm seas. He’d need to have a word with the Master who assigned him to the Seawing about making sure apprentices had at least one extended trip under their belts before they were to complete the long trip down south.

“It’s not supposed to be that severe, I’m sure we can sail through it. We have a schedule to keep, and the lack of wind is putting us behind enough already,” Tiernan said. While the supplies they were taking South weren’t perishable, they were important. Gauging by the conditions, Tiernan assumed they had at least a few candlemarks before the storm began.

He set out to begin preparing his ship for the worst. “Tie everything down!” he ordered. “Last and most important of all, yourselves.” Squirt had already hidden himself in the Captain’s cabin, and was refusing to come out. That, more than anything else, was sign of what was to come. Squirt hated to be stuck inside; since his Hatching, he’d been permitted to fly around the ship at his leisure.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The sails had been tied down, slowing their progress even more. Tiernan had gathered all of the maps and sealed them in a waterproof tube. He would figure out where they were after it was through.

The apprentice deckhand stood nearby, fidgeting anxiously. “Where were you born, apprentice?” Tiernan asked.

“Lemos, sir,” the apprentice replied.

“Lemos? So the only boats you saw as a child were riverboats?” Tiernan said with some amusement.

“Aye, Captain. I had hoped to be assigned to a riverboat. But... I told the Master that I’d been out to sea...”

“Ah, so now the confession comes out. Well, I can tell you honestly, if this is your first sevenday out to sea, this storm will likely cause you to rethink your choice of crafts,” Tiernan said.

The apprentice’s eyes widened in shock, and he hurried off to busy himself below decks.

“Bos’n!” Tiernan called out, summoning Boatswain Falorgan.

“Yes Captain?” Falorgan responded quickly.

“All ship’s maintenance is up to date? Everything’s waxed, tarred and tallowed?” Tiernan asked.

“Aye Captain. She’s as good as she’s going to get,” Faloran answered. “I think the storm is going to be far worse than we were told though.”

“I agree. The last time I saw the the sky this dark it was a hurricane near Ista. But we were at port then, so it wasn’t nearly so bad,” Tiernan said. He’d been at sea for hurricanes before, but never as Captain. “I do hope that we’re wrong though.”

Tiernan kept his gaze focused on the sky. Dark, angry butts had hidden Rukbat from view, and he knew from the rise in humidity, and the feeling of electricity in the air that the storm would be starting shortly. Nodding to himself, he did one last walk of the ship. All non-essential crew were below decks, and absolutely everything that could be tied down had been.

He stopped at the Mess Hall, where his crew was collected. “Alright, quiet down, I need to talk to you!” he shouted to be heard over the ruckus of anxious sailors. “I know most of you have been through this before, but there are a few new apprentices who’ve not weathered their first storm yet. If you go above deck, or return below deck, you are to check in with the Quartermaster. If you see anyone go overboard, inform either myself of the Quartermaster immediately. Don’t try to help them yourselves or you might end up overboard with them. When you’re above deck, make sure you’re tied down. We don’t want anyone going overboard if we can prevent it. And don’t take this as an excuse to take to drinking too much, we’re going to be rotating people up top, so be ready for your shift.”

As is typical, if you see a leak, take care of it to the best of your ability until the carpenter can have a look and see what he can do. Understand?”

“Aye aye Captain!” came a chorus of responses. Tiernan grabbed a wherhide jacket, which had been coated in order to resist water better. He pulled on a knit hat and took a deep breath as he surveyed his crew.

“Alright, now that that’s all cleared up, who’s seen my bottle of rum?”

The ship’s cook walked over to him and handed him the bottle, which he took a hearty swig of. “Alright men, let’s show this storm what the crew of the Seawing is made of!”

After a few shots for fortification, Tiernan stood next to his First mate at the Helm, waiting for the storm to begin. The winds were beginning to pick up a bit, and the waves were starting to get bit higher than normal. “How’s she responding to the wheel?”

“It’s not bad yet,” Paraner said. “I don’t think this storm will be as bad as you feared, sir. Just a squall.”

Tiernan shook his head, “Honestly, this is one occasion where I hope that you prove me wrong.” Light rain drops began to fall, splashing lightly on Tiernan’s face. To the Captain, the raindrops were mocking - deceptively non-threatening. But he wasn’t going to get too comfortable. He still had the sense that it was going to be a big storm.

“We should untie the sails, try and take advantage of this bit of wind, at least until it gets worse,” Paraner said.

“I fear that this will go from just a light drizzle to a very intense storm in short order,” Tiernan said. “But I don’t want these supplies to be late, else I’d just have us try to steer around it.”

“I think you’re right about that, I doubt this one will be worth trying to avoid,” Paraner agreed. Tiernan silently hoped that his First Mate was correct.

A half candlemark passed, and the storm hadn’t increased in intensity, and Tiernan was beginning to wonder if he made the wrong decision. He’d been a Captain for around 2 turns now, and he still had moments where he doubted himself. Swearing under his breath, he decided to give the storm another half candlemark before making his decision.

Mere moments after the thought of waiting occurred to him, the wind picked up strength drastically, tossing Paraner and Tiernan about at the helm. He quickly struggle to right himself, an action that was made far more difficult by the rain that was now falling in sheets. The wind was whipping around so much that the water seemed to be coming from in front of the ship, rather than from the side. Tiernan was not fooled.

The Seawing bucked from side to side, as wave after wave crashed into her. The few crew members who had stayed on the deck scrambled to keep their footing on the slick wooden deck, and Tiernan watched as one slammed into the side of the ship with a sickening crack that Tiernan recognized all too well. Tiernan stumbled down to the main deck, struggling to identify the man as he approached, whose identity was masked by the large hat and jacket that he was wearing.

As he got closer, he recognized it as the ship’s carpenter, a man by the name of Galliet. “Gall? Gall, are you alright?” Tiernan asked as he sunk to his knees beside the man.

“Aye Captain,” Galliet responded, his voice strained as he attempted not to cry out with pain. “I... My arm. I fear it’s broken,” he said after a moment.

“I’ll help you get below deck to the healers,” Tiernan said. The ship was bucking too wildly for him to pick Galliet up, but he managed to half carry, half drag the burly man down below the decks. “Hawthen!” He called out, trying to find the Journeyman Healer who was on the Seawing.

“Aye Captain?” The healer responded, carefully making his way over. “Oh... Galliet’s been hurt, that isn't good.”

“No, no it’s not,” Tiernan agreed. While every seagoing apprentice was required to have basic ship repair skills, their carpenter was nearly as vital to their survival as their cook was. And he wasn’t going to do anyone well with a broken arm.

“I’ll get him fixed up as best I can, Captain,” Hawthen said. He quickly removed the jacket from Galliet’s form, and managed to get him into a small cot where he would be more comfortable. The jacket removed, Hawthen gave Galliet a dose of fellis, and inspected the broken limb carefully before gesturing the Captain aside.

“I’ll do what I can, sir, but this is a bad break. I couldn’t set it properly out here even if the ship wasn’t shaking like mad, and the bone is through the surface. If we don’t get him back to shore sometime soon he might lose the limb - or worse,” Hawthen said.

Tiernan shook his head. “Who knows how long we’ll be stuck out here at this rate,” he said. “Do what you can, make sure he stays comfortable. Talk to me before you try to amputate, or if he gets any worse, you hear?”

“Of course, Captain,” the healer said, cleaning his hands with redwort. “I’ll concentrate on getting it set a bit better, and stopping up the bleeding. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the winds will push us towards the Northern Continent quicker than we’d hoped.”

“If only we could be that lucky,” Tiernan said dryly. “I’m heading back to the deck, hopefully I won’t have any more patients for you.”

“I hope so as well, Captain.”

As Tiernan departed, he almost immediately went back on his words, as a particularly strong wave send him sprawling awkwardly into a wall. He hit his head, although not hard enough to cause serious damage.

“Oh sweet Faranth, how much worse is this going to get?” Tiernan said aloud. But the storm had just begun, and he knew that it wouldn’t be over that easily.

Tiernan rubbed his head quickly before looking down at his hand to ensure that he wasn’t bleeding. His ears were ringing, but he wasn’t certain if that was because of the blow he’d taken, or because of how loud it had been above deck. Tiernan straightened for another attempt to go above, then was knocked back down as someone was propelled into him as the ship bucked once more.

It was apprentice Fievan. His face was white with fright, and his eyes were wide. “S...sorry sir, I was told to replace Galliet above. My father works as a Woodcrafter. I know some about repairing boats,” he explained quickly.

Tiernan felt his heart go out to the boy, who looked to be around 14 turns. The sea wasn’t the place for him, and he knew it. But they needed every man they had working, and that meant that he couldn’t precisely force good help to stay below decks. “Be careful,” he said.

Tiernan hoisted himself up, and was astonished by what he saw. Despite the fact that everything had been tied down to the best of the crew’s ability, a few barrels had come loose, and were careening about as the ship was tossed by the waves. Tiernan pointed to one, and shouted to Fievan to be heard over the wind. “Get that one below deck, I’ll grab the other,” he said. The wind was now strong enough to bend him over double. The wind was bringing the bow of the ship around, and as a result, the Seawing was being propelled sideways through the water. “Well, that explains why we’re getting bucked around so much...” he said softly.

Ignoring the barrel for the moment, Tiernan moved to the helm, where his First Mate Paraner was fighting with the wheel. “I’ll take over here,” Tiernan said, wrapping the rope that was about his waist around the ship’s wheel to ensure that he stayed in place near it.

“Aye aye, Captain,” Paraner said.

“Grab that barrel over there and chuck in below, and see to it that Fievan knows what he needs to be doing,” Tiernan commanded, as he fought with the wheel to bring the ship about to face properly. “We’ll break up into half candlemark shifts at the wheel,” he added. “This is too strenuous of work for anyone to do for long.”

“Yes Captain,” Paraner said, as he left to go wrangle the errant barrel into a less damaging location.

At the helm, Tiernan was fully at the mercy of the storm. The rain drops that were falling hit his face with force hard enough to sting, making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open. He squinted hard, trying to determine what direction the wind and waves were coming from so he could steer the ship accordingly. After some though, he decided it best to stop fighting the waves to maintain course, and instead just to allow the water to push them about as it would, and to deal with the consequences later. He’d worry about where the water had taken them once they had a good clear night.

By now, the storm had been raging for over a candlemark, with no signs of slowing. There was no doubt in Tiernan’s mind that what they were in the middle of wasn’t no tiny summer squall - it was a full blown hurricane. And despite the fact that Tiernan had steered the ship to best avoid the full force of the churning seas, it was still a constant battle with the wheel to keep the ship steady.

All of the sudden, it became easy to manage for a moment, and Tiernan had a glimmer of hope that perhaps they were reaching the eye of the storm. But then the storm punished him for his optimism, as a huge wave came up over the side of the Seawing, crashing directly into Tiernan. Tiernan lost his grip of the wheel, and forced down against the deck. The force of the impact forced the air from his lungs, and when he gulped to refill them, he got only sea water.

Coughing and sputtering, Tiernan grabbed ahold of the ropes that held him to the wheel, and pulled himself up to a standing position.

“Captain, are you alright?” Second Mate Uvannt said, clapping him roughly in the back. “Paraner sent me up here to relieve you, it’s been a half candlemark,” he explained, roping himself to the wheel in much the same fashion that Tiernan had.

Tiernan nodded, as he continued to cough sea water up from his lungs. Uvannt assisted him in getting his rope untangled from the wheel, then turned his focus back to the task that was steering the Seawing safely.

Tiernan headed back below decks once more, grabbing Fievan as he passed. “You’re shift up top is over, get back down where it’s safe,” he directed.

Hawthen was waiting for him below decks, and wrapped him quickly in a mostly dry fur blanket. “You alright Captain?” He asked.

Tiernan nodded, “Yes, I think I’m alright. How’s Galliet.”

“The arm is splinted, and he’s had enough fellis to put him out. I can’t do much more with him until we get to calmer waters,” Hawthen said.

Tiernan nodded his understanding. The longer the arm remained unsplinted, and the wound unstitched, the greater the chance that it would become infected, or worse, require amputation. Tiernan sighed deeply. In his 2 turns as a Captain, he’d done rather well for himself, rarely having anything more than a minor injury aboard his ship. This would be the first real test for him and his crew. He just hoped that everyone made it out alive.

“Can I get you anything?” Hawthen asked.

“Rum. Just rum.”

Tiernan sat down heavily on a bench in the Ship’s Mess, glad that all the furniture in the room was solidly built, and connected to the ship. Fieven sat down across the table from him, his eyes unfocused, and his entire body trembling.

“Are you alright, apprentice?” Tiernan asked, handing his bottle of rum across to the young boy.

“I... I think so sir,” Fievan said. The ship rocked hard, and Fievan was almost sent sprawling, but caught himself at the last moment. Tiernan frowned as the wood of the ship creaked and groaned it’s protest. So far, they hadn’t had many issues with the ship’s structure, which he was glad of.

“So how old are you? And what made you want to come to sea so badly?”” Tiernan asked, trying to distract the boy from his fear.

“I’m 14, sir. And... I came to sea in hopes of meeting my Da,” Fievan explained.

“I thought you said your father was a Woodcrafter?” Tiernan asked, wondering if the boy had lied about that as well.

“My Ma’s husband is a Woodcrafter, yes. But Ma has never had any children with him. The only reason I’m around is because of a fling with a Seacrafter,” Fievan explained. His face was beginning to look a bit green as the ship shook. It looked like he hadn’t gotten past the sea sickness after all.

“Ah... I see. Did your Ma give you his name?” Tiernan asked.

Fievan answered, but his words were stolen away by the creaks of the ship. He said it once more, and Tiernan almost heard what he’d said, but assumed that he’d heard incorrectly. On the third repetition, however, it was clear. “Fieranan.”

“Fi...Fieranan?” Tiernan asked, to be certain that he wasn’t imagining things. The apprentice nodded. “That’s my father you speak of.”

Fievan’s jaw dropped, and Tiernan continued to study him quietly. The boy had his father’s sandy red-blond hair, that he could see. And now that he was focusing, he had to admit that the shape of his nose, and the color of his eyes were oddly familiar. “You look a lot like him,” Tiernan said finally.

“Th...thank you,” Fievan said softly.

“After we get out of this mess, I’ll see about taking you to meet him, but you should know that insofar as my mother’s concerned, he’s always remained faithful to her,” Tiernan explained.

“I.... I’d really appreciate that. Captain. Sir.” Fievan said, stumbling over his words a bit in shock.

“But I want you off my ship. The Seawing is no place for an apprentice who’s never been out to sea. A Riverboat would be a better life for you. You could have a real family, if you wanted one,” Tiernan said.

“Do you think he’d like me?” Fievan asked.

Tiernan braced himself as the ship shook once more. “I don’t think he’d know what to do with the fact that you were prone to sea sickness. But yes, I think he’d like you.”

The family moment was broken when seasickness overwhelmed Fievan, and he wretched into a bucket next to the table. Tiernan reached across the table to rub his half-brother’s back comfortingly.

“Get back above deck as soon as it calms down. The fresh air would do you well,” Tiernan said, before standing to take his shift at the helm.

As Tiernan got back above deck, he noticed that winds were calming somewhat, and the rain was no longer coming down in horizontal sheets. It looked like they were finally getting into the eye of the storm. Tiernan breathed a sigh of relief. They needed a bit of a break to regroup and to tend for Galliet, and anyone else who’d gotten injured.

Uvannt was still at the wheel, looking considerably older than his 29 turns. “I’ll take it over for a while so you and Paraner can rest. You’ll need it,” Tiernan said.

“Aye Captain. I have a feeling that the worst has yet to come,” Uvannt said.

“I hope you’re wrong, but I’m inclined to agree. We got through the first half without too bad of incident. I doubt we’ll be so lucky again,” Tiernan said. Tiernan looked up at the sky one more, and pointed to a ray of light piercing through my butts. Once more, the wind had died down, and the seas were calm.

“Go tell Hawthen that his best shot to set Galliet’s arm will be now, and send up Fievan. Hopefully we can get his stomach settled a bit before the storm picks up again.

“Aye Captain,” Uvannt said, before disappearing below.

Finally having a moment to breathe and catch his thoughts, Tiernan considered what Fievan had told him. He didn’t believe that the apprentice was lying— after all, he bore a strong resemblance to his father— but he couldn’t believe that his father would have had relations with a woman. Especially not one who was already married. Despite what people said about seafaring men, and the fact that he was often away for months at a time, Tiernan had never seen his father so much as look at another woman. How was he going to look his father in the eye and tell him he had another son? And how would his mother react?

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of Fievan wretching over the side of the ship. He cringed in sympathy for the apprentice. “You going to make it?” He asked.

“I think so,” Fievan said.

“Just make sure you get down below before the storm starts up again. The last thing we need is you getting swept overboard because you’re too sick to keep your feet beneath you,” Tiernan said.

“How long do you think before it starts storming again?” Fievan asked, noticing that once more, dark butts covered the sky.

“Hard to say, since I have no idea where we are in relation to the storm right now. I’d assume soon, though. You might want to clean your bucket out soon, though,” Tiernan said with a grin.

“Aye.... I think I should go do that now,” Fievan said, and disappeared back below.

In the distance, Tiernan could see the rain begin to fall. It was one thing that he’d always found amusing about the sea. Since it was so flat, you could frequently see the edge of the storm from outside it. You could be standing in a sunny patch, and watching a torrential downpour directly ahead.

Tiernan braced himself, and shouted out to his crew. “Batten down the hatches! We’re coming back into stormy seas!”


	2. The Rising of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the hurricane increases in strength, the Seawing crew struggles to deal with injuries, and other misfortunes.

Fievan had meant to clean out his bucket immediately - he really did - but the shock of finding out that not only was his father a Sea Captain, but his half brother was Tiernan as well distracted him from logical actions. Instead, he went down into the small bunkroom that the non-ranking crew shared, and searched the chest that was at the foot of the hammock that was his.

It was damp in the crew chambers, and cramped, and the smell of it caused his stomach to resume the flip-flopping about that it had been doing earlier. He forced himself to ignore it, instead pulling out a small piece of hide. A letter.

_“Dearest Vanilesa,_

_I am sorry that I haven’t been back to the Hold to see our son. I’ve been reassigned from a small riverboat to a Seafaring vessel. We spend much of our time heading to and from the Southern Continent, and as such I do not get much leave. Hopefully, I will find a way to come see you soon._

_I truly wish that you would reconsider leaving your husband. You could join me on my ship for a while, until I could get you setup with a nice cothold at a Sea Hold. You wouldn’t have to worry about him beating you anymore. We could see each other once every few months when my ship is docked. Or I could take you down South, where you could be free to do as you please, without the stigma of your husband looming over your head. Perhaps even to a Weyr. You are still young yet, you might even be able to stand for a Hatching._

_It pains me to see you treated this way, it truly does._

_Love Always,  
Fieranan_

Fievan sighed, tucking the little note at the bottom of the chest, beneath everything else, and then locked the chest. His mother hadn’t known that Fieranan had another family - at least, if she did, she had never told him of it.

“Batten down the Hatches!” came Tiernan’s cry from above for a second time, and it was passed on to the other crew members. Fievan gathered his bucket, hoping to get it cleaned out before the weather took another nasty turn.

~*~

Hawthen looked at the break to Galliet’s arm once more. He wasn’t certain what looking at it was going to achieve, as it certainly wasn’t helping matters any. “What I wouldn’t give to have a Master around right now...” he murmured under his breath. His instinct on the matter was to just amputate and be done with it - the bones were too far gone to ever properly knit in his professional opinion. But he’d seen masters repair worse breaks. He was thankful that they had more than enough fellis on board to keep Galliet out for a while.

He wasn’t going to set the arm by himself. Peeking out into the corridor, he saw an apprentice who wasn’t doing anything useful.

“Hey, you. Sit down that bucket, and come help me a moment,” he called out.

“But...” Fievan started.

“No buts, this man needs help before this ship starts bucking about again. Hurry up!” Hawthen demanded.

“O....ok,” Fievan said, sitting the bucket aside before the healer could see— or smell— it’s contents.

“I’m going to straighten this man’s arm out. Once it’s straight, I need you to hold it in place while I try and get the bones back in their place,” Hawthen said.

Fievan felt his stomach begin to flip flop once more. He could only hope that he’d be off this ship - and soon!

~*~

Tiernan hoped that everything was taken care of properly. The winds had picked up again, and the ship was beginning to rock. “Oh Galliet, my old friend, I hope you are properly drugged with fellis and taped back together,” he said to himself, as he spun the wheel about to counter the effects of the wind. He’d been working together with Galliet since he was a Jr. Journeyman - he was practically a second father to him. When he became Captain, it was only logical that he’d bring the carpenter along with him.

They had been exceedingly lucky in the fact that nothing major on the ship had broken and needed repair, for the rest of the crew only had a rudimentary knowledge of ship repair. Tiernan cursed himself for not insisting that people cross-train in other fields while things were slow aboard the Seawing.

While the first part of the storm had been free of thunder and lightning, that did not seem to be the case for the second half, as the sky ripped open in a bright flash and loud **BOOM**. Tiernan jumped a bit despite himself, then chuckled at his own fear.

~*~

“That’s the best we’re going to be able to do for now,” Hawthen said with a sigh. He was pretty certain that the arm would need amputating, but wasn’t about to perform the procedure while the boat was shaking about like it was. “You can go back to whatever you were doing, apprentice.”

Fievan didn’t need to be told twice. His stomach was rebelling heavily, and he knew that he was going to vomit. He looked to find his bucket, and saw that it was gone. With inhuman speed and grace given the motion of the ship, he forced his way up to the main deck, and wretched over the side, into the whirling ocean.

“Why did I ever decide to become a Seacrafter?!” he said to himself.

~*~

From the wheel, Tiernan was able to see the wave and brace for it far better than any of the rest of his crew. Before he could say a word the ship was tossed a good dragonlength to the port side. And as he released the breath he’d not realized he’d been holding, he heard a telltale **SPLASH** that he didn’t like.

Not one bit.

“MAN OVERBOARD” Came the call, and several members of the crew flooded the deck. Tiernan’s heart skipped a beat as he wondered who it could have been. He didn’t see Hawthen or Galliet, but they should have been below deck. Nor did he see his First mate, nor Fievan.... nor half of his crew. He shook his head. There was no way that he was going to be able to steer the ship if he kept thinking negatively!

“Seacrafters know how to swim,” he said softly to himself, instantly realizing that his hope was foolish. Seacrafters knew how to swim in ordinary conditions. They did not know how to swim in chopping waves taller than a man stood.

Uvannt was the first one to the side of the ship, and he quickly tied himself down to ensure he didn’t suffer the same fate. He then began throwing over ropes, the rings that the Smith Hall made that could float, and whatever else he could think of that would help a drowning man.

“Don’t throw it all over!” Boatswain Falorgan said. “What if someone else goes over!”

Uvannt grunted in response. “GRAB ONTO THE ROPES!” He shouted down below. He could see a man’s head bobbing above the water from time to time, and then dipping back below. The man wrapped an arm about one of the ropes, but as soon as Uvannt tried to pull on it, he lost his grip, and slipped back into the foamy water.

Uvannt kept trying with the rope, but the man never resurfaced again. After nearly a candlemark of efforts, conditions became unsafe for them to continue the rescue efforts.

“Back Below Decks!” Tiernan called. Paraner walked up to relieve Tiernan from his duty at the wheel. “Who went overboard?”

“We assume Fievan, Captain,” Paraner answered quickly.

Tiernan was struck by a wave of grief for a half-brother he’d barely known. He stumbled weakly back down to the Mess Hall, where Hawthen intercepted him.

“Captain?” The Journeyman Healer said. “I’d like to talk to you in private, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Hawthen,” Tiernan said, leading the younger man to a more private area of the lower deck. “I assume this is about Galliet?”

“Yes, Captain. You see, he’s not doing so well. He’s not awake, so I can’t get his permission to perform the amputation,” Hawthen explained.

“Is the arm really that bad off, or is it just the conditions? We can see about getting a dragon out here for rescue once the storm stops in a few candlemarks,” Tiernan said.

“Well, that’s part of it, I think. I... I don’t know, sir. I’ve never really handled an injury this severe, and I just wish that there was a Master here to assist me,” Hawthen said with a heavy sigh.

“Well, is the matter that urgent right now, or can we take a few candlemarks to decide?” Tiernan asked.

“I... I think that we have a few candlemarks. If a dragon could pick him up and take him to a better healer, I think his arm could be spared,” Hawthen said after a moment’s thought.

“Alright. Let’s wait then. Galliet loves carpentry. It’s his life. I fear that the loss of his arm would be considered worse than death insofar as he is concerned,” Tiernan said.

“Aye, Captain,” Hawthen said, before hurrying off to check on his patient.

Tiernan went back to the Mess Hall, and took a seat off by himself. His mind was whirling, a chaotic mess of thoughts. Should he have turned around at the first sign of the storm? Or tried to alter course around it? Should he have ordered Fievan to stay below because of his inexperience? Was the decision to hold off on caring for Galliet’s injuries really the best one? For the first time in turns, Tiernan was experiencing doubt. And he didn’t care for it, not one bit.

And then there was the matter of his half brother. Part of him wondered if he had other siblings somewhere that he didn’t know about. And another part of him wondered if Fievan’s death was a sign that perhaps he should just forget about everything, and pretend that he wasn’t the wiser. His mother would be very disappointed, and would feel betrayed, he knew that much. With Fievan dead, the chances of her finding out about her husband’s dalliance with another woman would be near non-existent.

Tiernan sighed to himself, before coming to a decision. He wanted to know what Fievan was like. He wanted to know as much as he could about the boy. Perhaps he would even visit his mother himself to tell her the terrible news of his demise.

The chest at the foot of Fievan’s hammock was locked, but the apprentice had been in such a hurry that he’d forgotten to place the key back around his neck. Instead, it was sitting on the floor nearby. Tiernan opened the chest, and began to sort through the contents. There were a few shells, and polished stones - typical souvenirs of a Seacrafter apprentice. Practice knots had been tied into a thin cord, wrapped about a small book of nautical terms and knowledge.

There were notes from the boy’s mother, which Tiernan read over quickly. She spoke of wanting to see Fievan again, and hoping that he would be able to meet his father. She also hoped that when Fieranan saw Fievan that he would want to head back to Lemos and see her again. Tiernan sighed, his heart falling.

At the bottom of the chest was a note, in handwriting that Tiernan easily recognized. It was his father’s messy, angular script.

Fievan had been telling the truth.

But it was even worse than Tiernan had thought. Fieranan had planned to make a family with this woman. Tiernan forced back tears of disappointment, and locked the chest once more, looping the key about his neck for safekeeping.

And that’s when he heard it. One of the worst sounds a sailor could ever hear. Worse than the “Man Overboard.” Worse than the creaking of stressed wood panels.

**CK-CRACK BOOOOOOOOOOM**


	3. Avast the Mast!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiernan and his crew have to deal with the aftermath of lightning striking the Seawing.

It was one of the worst sounds that a Seacrafter could hear - other than the sound of the ship splitting in two, that is. It was the sound of a lightning strike hitting the ship itself, and the wood giving way in protest. It was one of the biggest hazards with sailing a ship through a storm like this one. And by the sounds of things, it had hit one of the masts.

Tiernan hurried up to the deck, but found that his way was blocked by the splintered end of the main mast. “Of course it would hit the main, it’s the highest...” he murmured to himself. He quickly surveyed the status of his crew, and found that for once luck had been with them - no one was hurt. But the way the ship continued to buck about, it was inevitable that the loose mast would cause harm - either to the crew, or to the ship itself.

It was too long to be properly fastened to the ship, and Tiernan made the difficult decision. “We need to throw it overboard!” He called.

“Aye aye, Captain,” Called various members of his crew, who began to remove the lines that were holding the mast to the ship.

“Try and salvage the sails if we can. We might need em for flags later,” Tiernan said. He drew a knife from his belt and began cutting the sails loose as best he could. It was difficult work under the best of circumstances, made worse by the rocking of the boat. He had soon cut his hands up on accident, and he swore for what seemed like the millionth time.

Once the mast was detached, it took 5 crewmen to get it overboard. Tiernan cringed as it splashed into the sea below. Trees of the height and quality to produce a mast that size were not easy to come by, and he knew he would be criticized for the waste. But he couldn’t afford more damage, and he didn’t want any more deaths to come from this storm.

Without another word, Tiernan stalked back down to the Mess Hall. He probably should have relieved Paraner on the helm, or made sure that the hull of the ship hadn’t been damaged. But he was pushed to his breaking point, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it. He had lost his first crew member, and it happened to be someone he was related to.

His head was whirling, his normally unfailing charm and optimism lost. He’d owe it to Fievan’s mother to tell her in person how her son was lost at sea. He owed his own father no less debt.

“Captain,” came the voice of Hawthen from behind him. “It’s Galliet. I can’t get the bleeding to stop.”

Captain Tiernan scrubbed his face, sighing deeply, “What do you recommend we do for now, healer?”

“Well, I really don’t have the supplies necessary to tend to it here. He doesn’t have long, unless I amputate and cauterize the wound,” Hawthen said, then cringed as he saw Tiernan’s facial expression.

“We’re not getting back to any dock in 2 days. Not with the main mast broken, and with some damage to the sails on the others...” Tiernan started. The boat rocked heavily then, pitching Hawthen into Tiernan, who caught the younger man, and steadied him. “Keep an eye on it, don’t amputate before you have to.”

“It’s going to be a difficult procedure if the ship doesn’t stop this sharding rocking any time soon,” Hawthen lamented.

“Well, hopefully within the next few candlemarks you’ll not have to worry about that anymore,” Tiernan said. The last thing he wanted was the death of an old friend looming over his head. He’d known these things were possible going into the path of a Sea Captain. But he hadn’t prepared himself for how close to home it was hitting him. He was suddenly glad he’d never Impressed. He wasn’t certain that he could handle the probability of losing friends.

Taking a deep breath, Tiernan forced his mind back where it needed to be in order for him to tend to his ship and his crew. It was his turn to take over the helm, and he knew Paraner needed the break. They would assess their losses, and mourn accordingly once the storm was past.

Tiernan’s face was raw from the wind and water, and he cringed as he stepped back out onto the deck of the Seawing. Paraner looked like he was about to fall over at the wheel, and Tiernan suspected that the ropes were the only thing keeping him up. “Thank Faranth you’re here Captain!” He exclaimed.

“Fievan’s loss... it wasn’t something I was ready to deal with,” Tiernan explained, simply. Paraner didn’t need to know the details of why that particular loss was so troublesome.

“Aye, Captain. It’s always sad when it’s the young ones,” Paraner said. I think the worst of the storm is past us now, the thunder seems to have stopped at least.”

“That’s certainly a good thing,” Tiernan said. “See if there’s anything warm below for you to eat. If the ship stops rocking soon, Cookie can get us soup heated up. We’ll need all the energy we can get to limp back to dock.”

“Certainly, Captain,” Paraner replied, before ducking back down below.

Tiernan was lucky in the fact that Paraner seemed to be right. Although the storm still raged about him, Tiernan could see a glimmer of light breaking through the dense butts. Perhaps they would survive this after all.

While the storm had began slowly, it had disappeared in a hurry. The clear night sky was the first bit of mercy that the weather had shown the crew of the Seawing, and Tiernan wasn’t about to let it slip away. Quickly grabbing maps and star charts, he located the primary constellations of the night sky. Then he tracked the placement of the moons of Pern, in order to figure out what time it was. “A hair after the middle of the night...” Tiernan muttered to himself. The storm had hit around noon time. Had it really been half a day? He felt like he’d been fighting the storm for years. He knew his crew felt the same. The apprentices had lost the spring in their steps and the older crew members were too weary to even complain about the pain in their bones.

While many ships had a separate navigator, Navigation was Tiernan’s speciality, and he prefered to handle it himself. It was a mix of exact calculations regarding the position of astrological bodies, and of pure gut instinct. “Hmmmm,” he hummed to himself, double checking his calculations.

“Well sir? Where are we?” Paraner asked after some time.

“Under normal speeds, we’re about 5 days journey South of Fort Sea Hold,” Tiernan said. “Under present conditions, who knows,” Tiernan said, sighing as he studied the two remaining masts. The one aft of the middle had been heavily damaged by the lightning strike as well. “With Galliet’s condition, I think it’s best if we try to contact the Hall and get a tow to the nearest dock.” It wasn’t an option Tiernan wanted to use, as he felt like a failure if his ship couldn’t limp back under it’s own power. “At minimum, we need to tell them that the shipment for the North is damaged.” Tiernan collected the maps and charts, and folded them up carefully so they wouldn’t get damaged. The absolute last thing they needed would be to be sailing blindly like this.

The goods that the Seawing had been carrying included barrels of wine and other alcohols, in addition to some wood, and some textiles. Many of the barrels had come loose in the cargo Hold, letting loose their contents over the textiles. At least the wood was in good order. Tiernan hoped that his otherwise flawless record with deliveries would make up for this one incident. It all depended on whether the Masters at the Hall thought that he’d made the right decisions given the conditions. They would likely also want details about Fievan’s death, and he wasn’t certain what he was going to tell them.

“I spoke to the cook. Many of our dry food supplies got waterlogged in the storm,” Paraner said, his face grim. “I’m not certain how long we’re going to be able to survive on what we have left.”

“Oh... food...” Tiernan said, with a sigh. His stomach rumbled, and his mouth was parched. “I haven’t even eaten since this all started.”

Paraner tossed Tiernan some hard rolls, and a piece of fruit, and Tiernan munched on both while he considered what course of action was best. “I’m going to see if Squirt can be coerced to deliver a message for us,” Tiernan said. Squirt was the only firelizard aboard the ship, and while he was occasionally a good messenger, more often than not he was lazy. Tiernan entered his quarters, and searched for the tiny firelizard. There weren’t _that_ many good hiding places in there, but Squirt had a knack of finding all of them. Just when he was about to give up and declare the creature lost, he peeked into the back corner of one of his locked desk drawers. “You clever git,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “I forget that locks don’t stop things that can go /between/.”

“C’mon, friend, you need to deliver a message,” Tiernan said.

~~fear~~ Squirt sent back, peaking his head up.

“The storm is over now, it’ll be alright. Come on now, we really need you to take a message to the Dockmaster at Fort,” Tiernan said, sending loving thoughts to the firelizard.

Squirt made an unhappy noise, and tucked his head back under a wing protectively. Tiernan kicked the desk in angry frustration, then hopped around in pain. He’d forgotten just how hard “hard wood” could be. Tiernan could only hope that Squirt would come around soon. If he didn’t, his first purchase when he got back to the dock would be an egg containing a gold or bronze!

Nearly 12 candlemarks had passed since the beginning of the storm. Hawthen continued to keep Galliet knocked out with fellis, although he wasn’t certain how long their supply would last. Their glows were getting dimmer, and Tiernan didn’t want to use more if they didn’t know how long they’d be stuck adrift at sea.

“Paraner!” He called out, heading back to the main deck. “Order the crew to their beds. We’ll sleep now, and see what more we can do when Rukbat rises.

“Aye Captain,” Paraner said.

Tiernan entered his quarters and closed the door behind him, before sliding down onto the floor, his momentum thoroughly spent. Ever inch of his body ached - every bit of skin, every muscle, he would even swear that his hair was sore.

He though of his father - the noble, perfect sea captain, that everyone on the Seacraft wanted to be like. The one who always made the right decisions, and treated his crew with respect. The one who loved his wife and children more than anything else...

Or did he?

Tiernan let his head fall back, and it collided with the door with a solid **THUMP**. All his life he’d wanted to be like his father. Did that mean that he was living a lie? One day. Twelve candlemarks. That was all it took to turn a confident man into a mess of doubts.


	4. A Firelizard's Plight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squirt, intrepid blue firelizard, attempts to make sense out of why no one is around to feed him...

Squirt was a no good, terrible, very bad firelizard. Or at least, that is what Tiernan had told him. For candlemarks after he had retired for the evening, Tiernan had begged and pleaded with him to take a message to someone. Anyone. He didn’t even care who received it, just so long as someone heard of their plight. He’d eventually resorted to screaming incoherent strings of expletives at Squirt, until Squirt felt very sad. He’d finally collapsed in a pile on the floor, and was snoring softly.

Squirt made a noise that sounded suspiciously like the firelizard version of a **HARRUMPH** and flicked his wings back. He was no longer cowering in a little ball in the back of the drawer, but instead was standing on the floor, eyeing Tiernan critically. Didn’t the big man know that the storms were scary? And he hadn’t tried to comfort Squirt at all. What a mean big man. Squirt didn’t really know why he was afraid of storms, as he’d never been inconvenienced by one much, but he knew that he did not like them at all. Especially when the bright light split the sky open, and the world rumbled in response. And Squirt liked the water - when it was below him. He wasn’t much of a fan of it falling onto his head.

Squirt had slept through most of the storm, relatively unharmed in his safe spot, save for a few times when he was pitched about. And one really awful time when a knife that was in the drawer almost cut his wing. That was no good at all. He had hidden that knife good. It wouldn’t bother him again!

Now he was awake, and he was hungry, and Tiernan was asleep. There was a bit of bread next to him, which he’d dropped when he’d passed out. Squirt peaked and poked around, finding a few bites here and there. But he was still hungry, and he knew that Tiernan wasn’t the only person aboard who would give him a bit to eat, so he popped /between/ and reappeared in the Mess.

It was empty.

This perplexed Squirt. He landed on a table, and cocked his head to the side. There was ALWAYS someone in the Mess. It was a ship, there was always some people that were awake. Squirt flew up to the main deck, and there was no one. No one at the wheel, no one up in the rigging. This wasn’t right at all. Who was to feed poor Squirt?

Then he remembered something. The one thing that he was never supposed to do. Perch on the wheel! Excited, he flew over to it, and landed neatly atop it. But... he didn’t stay there for long. The fickle thing moved! With an unhappy chirp, he tried to land on it once more. And it moved out from under him again.

Temporary amusement gone, he flew around the ship, finding a few wet rolls to eat. It wasn’t ideal, but his stomach wasn’t empty any more, and that made Squirt quite happy. Now what to do with himself...

He had picked the image of a chest out of Tiernan’s mind while he was trying to get him to take the message. He had recognized the chest. The skinny boy owned it. He had lots of shiny things in there, that Squirt had liked to look at. The boy liked Squirt a whole lot. He had always wanted a firelizard of his own; at least, that’s what he told Squirt. Squirt liked the boy because when he had time, he would scratch Squirt’s itchy spots, and feed him little bits of food. Squirt knew that the best shinies the boy had weren’t all in the chest. Some of them were hidden between some of the boards of the walls.

His master had seemed interested in the boy... perhaps Squirt could get him to forgive him by getting the shinies from the wall! That would do quite nicely, Squirt decided.

Squirt peered at the wall in question for a moment, debating how he’d get the shinies out. He saw a small piece of hide poking out, and he tugged at it. It wouldn’t give. So he tugged harder, chirping with frustration as it stubbornly stuck in place. Finally, he tugged one last time, with all his might, wings flapping furiously, and the piece of hide came loose. Both firelizard and hide tumbled into a heap on the floor, and Squirt cheeped in surprise.

He had gotten more than he’d anticipated. The hide had been folded into a rough envelope, and when Squirt peered inside, he found all manner of things. There were scribbled notes, which he dismissed quickly because of his lack of reading ability. There was a portrait of a young girl, that was surprisingly realistic. Squirt looked at it curiously. She was pretty, in the firelizard’s opinion. There were also several braided gold chains, one with a locket. And a betrothal ring, although Squirt didn’t recognize it as such.

Tucking the contents safely back inside, Squirt grabbed the envelope, and blinked /between/, reappearing next to Tiernan. He dropped the envelope at his master’s feet, cheeped proudly, then snuggled up into Tiernan’s neck for a nap. Master would be so proud of him when he woke up and saw what he had brought to him! In a few short moments, Squirt was asleep, snoring softly, with pleasant dreams of the adventures to come.


	5. Don't Shoot the Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squirt finally consents to sending a message, which gives the crew of the Seawing hope of survival.

For once, Rukbat was up before the Captain, her brilliant rays creating a pink-purple sunrise for anyone awake to observe. Tiernan awoke on the floor of his chambers, Squirt snuggled up neatly in his jacket, snoring softly. “So you finally come around, ya little bastard,” he muttered to himself with a shake of his head. Straightening, he found that his head was pounding, and his ears were ringing loudly. He groaned. If he would have known the fresh water supplies were going to be contaminated by seawater, he would certainly not have drank so much rum.

He blinked, clearing the sandy feeling from his eyes, and noticed a packet made from thin hide sitting next to him. It wasn’t something that he’d seen before. He couldn’t immediately look at it though. He picked it up, and stood to place it in his desk, while cradling Squirt with one hand. The firelizard stirred slightly.

“Are you ready to deliver a message yet?” Tiernan asked, stroking the firelizard’s head.

~~curious~~ sent Squirt. 

“To the Dockmaster at Fort Sea Hold,” Tiernan said, as he sat down and grabbed a small piece of hide, and a bit of charcoal.

Squirt cheeped unhappily. He would much rather go visit someplace with lots of firelizards. ~~image of shiny gold firelizard~~

“We need you, Squirt. We need you to save the ship. You’re very important,” Tiernan knew that they wouldn’t get back to shore quickly enough to get the food and water they’d all need to survive. Squirt was quite literally his only hope of getting out of things safely.

Squirt preened proudly. Of course he was important. He was Squirt, Blue Firelizard!

_Dockmaster,_

_This is Captain Tiernan of the Seawing. Our ship is heavily damaged by a hurricane, and we are nearly out of food and water supplies. We are nearly 5 days travel due south of Fort Sea Hold, but I do not believe we can wait 5 days for a vessel with supplies. We have one critically injured crew member who needs to see a healer urgently. Please advise,_

_Tiernan_

Tiernan tucked the note into the tube about Squirt’s leg, and concentrated on the image of the Topaz Dockmaster. He only hoped that the man wasn’t busy. Squirt cheeped in understanding, then hopped into the air, and disappeared /between/.

Tiernan took a deep breath. He needed to eat something. He knew that the Quartermaster and the Cook would already be carefully rationing food stuffs for the rest of the crew. He pulled the emergency water skin from his desk, and sipped carefully from it, trying to avoid drinking more than he absolutely needed to function. His stomach rumbled hungrily, but he remembered the first rule of limited resources - digestion uses water. It’s best not to eat if your water supplies are limited.

A few moments later, Squirt reappeared, chirping happily. He landed on Tiernan’s desk, shaking his leg with excitement.

“Hold still, you silly thing. I can’t get the tube off if you shake around like that!” Tiernan said, although with good humor.

~~Image of Dockmaster giving Squirt a treat~~ Squirt sent, his mental tone tinged with pride.

Tiernan finally disentangled the note, and read it quickly.

_Captain,_

_I’ll be in contact with the riders at Fort Weyr. I am sending a Firelizard to see if dragon assistance will be possible. There is a ship 2 days south of your location. I have them heading your direction now. Please provide maps tomorrow so I can give them more exact directions. Send your firelizard back in a few candlemarks and I’ll provide you with updated information._

Tiernan nodded, and headed above deck. He knew instantly that there was a problem. The Seawing wasn’t where it belonged. He could tell that from where the Dawnsisters were in relation to where Rukbat was. He figured they were travelling vaguely Southeast, but he had no idea of how far they’d gone.

He turned the wheel of the Seawing, trying to point her due south again, but navigation was hindered by the lack of sails to bring about. Swearing under his breath, Tiernan did the best that he could, and then shouted for one of the Journeyman to man the helm.

“Any word from the Hall, Captain?” Paraner asked, gesturing to Squirt. The firelizard was happily flying about above the ship once more.

“Aye, they’re getting in contact with the Weyr, although the best they’d likely be able to do would be to drop off some supplies. Still, it helps. There’s a ship roughly 2 days south of us that has been given instructions to intercept. I’m hoping we’re drifting in their direction,” Tiernan said.

“I wager we can’t get a dragon to pick up Galliet?” Paraner asked.

“I think it’d be too risky,” Tiernan said, after giving it some thought. “The Seawing can’t support the weight of a dragon to land. The dragonrider would need to hover above the ship, put down a rope, and someone would need to climb up a moving rope while carrying Galliet. I don’t think it’d be wise to risk landing a dragon in the ocean, I don’t know if they’d be able to get out. And to add insult to injury, it’s quite windy today. What has Hawthen said about his condition?”

“Galliet grows weaker,” Paraner said. “He’s thinking only a half candlemark before he has to amputate. And he is going to need a few people to assist him.”

Tiernan cringed. As a Captain, he’d been given extensive field healing classes at the Seacraft Hall. He much preferred using the knowledge to remove splinters and to tend blisters than he did to amputate limbs. “Is the fellis still keeping him out?”

“So far, sir, although we’re running out. Hopefully we can get some delivered from the Weyr,” Paraner said.

“Well, the rescue is in the works. I’d recommend everyone taking it easy. We’ll rotate shifts at the helm to ensure that we stay in a southward facing, but other than that, everyone needs to be below to avoid dehydration until water can get here one way or another,” Tiernan said.

“Aye Captain.”


	6. Relief from Above!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A green dragon arrives with supplies for the crew, giving Tiernan a much-needed chance to relax... though his thoughts do not go pleasant places.

Over the course of the half candlemark, Tiernan had made efforts to care for his ship the best he could. He pulled the two emergency barrels of potable water, and discussed with his Quartermaster how to ration it out for the next few days. His goal was to survive on them for 5 days, so in case he couldn’t intercept the other ship, he could at least get in range of the Dolphin pods for assistance. They had set up waterproof linen tarps to help collect any rain water or dew that they could, and add that liquid to their existing stores. And they had dropped lines, and were catching some of the fish that were underneath the ship. It wasn’t a great existence, but it would allow them to survive if the Dockmaster couldn’t get a dragonrider to come assist them.

Some of the spark was gone from Tiernan’s eye, and his clothes were speckled in blood. He wanted to change into something less macabre, but the remainder of his clothing was either torn to shreds, or completely soaked.

“He’s.... been taken care of?” Paraner asked when Tiernan came back from his visit to Galliet.

Tiernan nodded, “We had to amputate the arm. Just to the elbow for now, hopefully cauterization keeps his blood where it belongs.” It hadn’t been a pleasant process, and they were running low on fellis. He feared what would happen if more didn’t come. “I just sent Squirt back to the Dockmaster. They’re sending a Weyrling with some bags of supplies, Squirt will give him the coordinates.”

“What all did you request?” Paraner asked.

“Water supplies for 20 men for 5 days, Dry rations in the same amount, and medicinals. Specifically fellis, numbweed, and herbs to keep infections at bay,” Tiernan explained. “The Dockmaster wants us to meet with the Dragon’s Talon tomorrow, and they will get us back to Fort Sea Hold.”

“And what of our ship? Are we to just leave her behind?” Paraner asked.

Tiernan shook his head. “They’re sending a crew of ships to get her tugged back to the shore. Fortunately, we’ve been drifting that way, although not with any real speed. They hope to have her back in around 5 days. The I assume we’ll meet with the Hallmasters, and they’ll decide whether or not to reassign us while the ship is in drydock.”

A green dragon emerged from /between/ about the Seawing, with a small firelizard trailing her. Squirt flew happy circles around the dragon.

Tiernan waved a greeting to the green’s rider. He saw that the green had been heavily laden with supplies for the ship. “Clear the main deck!” Tiernan shouted, causing his crew to quickly get below. Tiernan himself stood off to the side of the deck.

The green dragon came as close as she could get, and the Seawing shook as her wingbeats caused waves in the water. Her rider detached the first bag of supplies from the green’s harness, and began to lower it to the deck with a rope. The movement of dragon and ship caused the supplies to swing wildly, and Tiernan ducked quickly to avoid being hit. After it had settled to the ship’s deck with a solid **THUD**, Tiernan removed his knife, and cut the rope quickly, and the green’s rider pulled it back up.

This process was repeated with three more bags, which Tiernan quickly set aside in a safe, cry corner of the ship. He then waved his thanks to the green rider, who flew up before disappearing /between/ once more.

“Captain,” Hawthen said, once the dragonrider had left. “Are the herbs I requested in there?”

Tiernan began sorting through the bags, and handed the medicinals to Hawthen. “How is he?”

“Galliet’s awake, he’s in a lot of pain. I need to get him some more fellis,” Hawthen said. “He’s... not happy about our decision to amputate. I tried to stress that it was either the arm or his life, but he doesn’t want to understand...”

“I think what you fail to understand,” Tiernan interrupted, “Is that carpentry and ship building is his livelihood. It’s the only thing he knows, it’s the only thing he wants to know. Even at best, it will take him a while to get even somewhat functional with one arm, and there are a lot of things he’ll never be able to do again.”

“Yes, but to state that one’s livelihood is the only reason for living...” Hawthen started.

“Galliet’s old, Healer. He doesn’t have the luxury of the young to be able to learn other things well. His wife passed turns ago, and he’s estranged from his greenrider son. His craft is all he has,” Tiernan explained. “That said, I’ll likely recommend that he be given a position at the Hall, teaching carpentry. It’s something that he’s always wanted to do, but the Hall considered him too important out on the water. I admit, it will be hard for me to find another carpenter that matches his skill. You should probably get him his fellis if he’s suffering though.”

“You’re right,” Hawthen said, collecting the herbs from the wherhide sacks and heading back to his patient.

Tiernan sorted through the remainder, and found that in addition to bread and water that the Weyr had provided them with fresh fruit. He picked up a citrine, peeled it with his belt knife and took a bite. It looked like they were finally past the worst parts of their adventure, and now Tiernan was free to sit back, and worry about what was to come when he got back on land.


	7. Living in your Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiernan goes through his half-brother's things, and learns more about his family than he ever hoped to know.

The Seawing had intercepted the Dragon’s Talon without further incident. Galliet was now under the care of their Master Healer, and they were safely en route back to shore. They would arrive at Fort Sea Hold in about 3 days, where Tiernan would be met by a group of Master Seacrafters, and his future as a Sea Captain would be decided. He had finally been able to change into clean, mostly dry clothing, and have a proper warm meal for the first time in days.

All in all, things weren’t going so badly for the Captain.

At least for now. He knew that Galliet was never going to fully emotionally recover from the loss of his arm. He also knew that he’d never stop feeling guilty about the loss of his half-brother, and that he’d never look at his father the same way.

He remembered then the packet full of items that Squirt must have found and dropped on his office floor while he was asleep. He went into the temporary quarters that he’d been offered on the Dragon’s Talon, and rifled through his things until he found it. He’d peeked in it once before he left the Seawing, and had seen that it contained a few relatively nice golden necklaces. He hadn’t noticed some of the notes though.

_“Dearest Vanilesa,_

_Please accept this necklace as a token of my love to you. It pains me to know that you don’t wish to leave your husband for me. I understand that it’s rough that I can’t be around all the time because I am off at sea, but I do think that it would be worth it for the time we’d have together. I do hope that you’ll tell Fievan and Vanera of us once they’re old enough to understand. Shards, Fievan is 12 turns now. He’s old enough to craft. He’s old enough to know._

_Love Always,  
Fieranan”_

Tiernan’s heart thudded in his chest as he poured out the remaining contents of the envelope. Vanera. There was another one. He had a sister. That was the only explanation that made sense. He picked up a harper’s portrait of a little girl. She appeared to be around 10 turns of age, and had the same eyes as Fievan and Tiernan.

There was another note, this one in unfamiliar hand.

_“Dearest Fieranan,  
I am sorry that I have played games with your head for so many turns. It’s been very hard to deal with being married to a man who doesn’t love me, and to love a man who is away at sea. My husband has recently passed away, which is why you haven’t heard from me, as his firelizard has went /between/. I couldn’t think of any other way to get in touch with you, and Fievan has insisted that he will join the Seacraft in hopes of contacting you. I have sent this note along with him so you would believe him, although he looks just like you. I have enclosed an espousal ring. I do hope that you’ll wear it._

_Your Love,  
Vanilesa”_

Tiernan sat back and took deep breaths for a few moments. The way that Fievan had been talking, it had sounded like Fieranan had just had a brief fling with Vanilesa, and he had assumed that it was over for turns. These letters though - they spoke of a history that had spanned at least several turns.

Tiernan considered his father’s actions for a moment. He remembered that 2 turns ago, when he had walked the Tables to become a Master that his father had taken him aside, and told him that he was planning on taking a position that would allow him to spend more time at home. He had blamed old age, but now Tiernan was left wondering if it wasn’t because he no longer needed to visit his other family.

He sat back in the chair, resting his head against the wall of the ship. It didn’t rock the same way the Seawing did, as it was a much larger vessel. It made him feel disorientated, away from home. It certainly didn’t help his present mental state any.

He wanted someone to love. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to be with someone that he was comfortable around. Since the Seawing had been en route South, and he knew he’d be away for a few months, he had tried to ignore his desires to start a family. Was this a sign that he should consider another path?


	8. The Master's Conclave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiernan meets with the Seacraft Masters, and learns what the fate of he and the Seawing will be.

The Dragon’s Talon pulled in to dock at Fort Sea Hold, and Tiernan shouted off some quick orders to members of his crew before departing the ship. “You all can go ashore, but be back here at nightfall,” he commanded. He was to get in touch with the Seacraft Hall, who had sent several masters out to assess the condition of the Seawing. Their preliminary reports indicated that Tiernan shouldn’t expect to have her back for at least a month. That would be the amount of time that it took to find and prepare a replacement mast, and to get it installed on the ship. While those replacements were being done, the ship would be drydocked, and would have maintenance done. That would consist of replacing weak boards, rotted areas, or anything else that would cause trouble at sea. Hopefully, within a month she’d be good as new.

In the meanwhile, several members of his crew would likely be given leave, while others would be assigned to other ships on either a temporary or permanent basis. And of course, Tiernan would need to find replacements for both Galliet and Fievan. That wasn’t something that he was looking forward to.

The Captain of the Dragon’s Talon had loaned him something nice to wear while he spoke to the Masters. It didn’t fit quite as well as he would have liked, and there was no hiding the effects of the wind and the water hitting him in the face. As a result, he still looked tired and disheveled, regardless of the clothes he wore.

Taking a deep breath, he headed over to where he was to meet the Masters. His mind was whirling. Would they take away his ship? Would his crew get reassigned? What would become of Galliet?

~*~

A few candlemarks later, Tiernan was leaving his meeting with the Masters. He felt drained, almost as much as he had when the storm had first ended. There’d been endless questions - what he’d done, why he’d done it, and what he was thinking when he did it. Then there were questions about what his crew had done, and why they’d done it, and what he thought they were thinking when they did it.

In the end, they’d left him alone for nearly a candlemark while they debated it amongst themselves. By the time they finally emerged, Tiernan was certain that they’d take his ship and his knots over the whole debacle. He’d paced in circles ‘til he was convinced that there was a path worn into the floor.

They’d given their decision, he’d thanked them for his time, and he had left, his head still spinning.

His first stop was to visit Galliet at the healer’s. He’d been told that the man was awake, and was mostly lucid for the first time in days. He owed him an apology.

When he entered, the man was awake, and was staring off into space. “Galliet?” Tiernan said to get his attention.

“Hallo, Cap’n,” Galliet responded, although not with his typical gusto.

“How are you feeling? Is the pain bad?” Tiernan asked.

Galliet shrugged. “Pain’s alright, not sure what I’ll do from now, though,” he responded shaking his head.

“I’ve spoken to some Masters at the Hall already, they say when you feel up to it, you can go back and teach carpentry. I know you’ve wanted to for some time now,” Tiernan said, taking a seat next to the older man’s bed.

“You’ve spoken to them? I would really like to teach at the Hall, I appreciate you looking out for me,” Galliet said, grinning broadly. “What else did they say? I see you’ve still got your shoulder knots so it couldn’t have gone too bad?”

“Aye, they determined that I did the best that I could given the circumstances. I didn’t go above and beyond by any means, but they found nothing to reprimand me over. I’ll get the Seawing back when she’s fixed, until then I’m on leave. They said I deserved if given that I haven’t taken any since becoming a Captain,” Tiernan said. “So all in all, I think things went ok. But I don’t feel too good about it.”

“My arm isn’t your fault,” Galliet said quickly. “I know you’re blaming yourself for it, and you need to stop. It was the storm’s fault, and my own fault for not paying more attention.”

“I should have went around the storm...” Tiernan said.

“Is that what the Masters said? How upset would they have been if you’d taken us out of our way to go around the storm, and had the shipment be late?” Galliet said.

“They would have been mad, but you’d still have your arm, and Fievan would be alive!” Tiernan thundered, raising his voice in a fashion that was quite uncommon for the Sea Captain.

“Quit feeling sorry for yourself, because I don’t feel sorry for myself,” Galliet responded. “Fievan’s loss is unfortunate, but if he’d been following orders he wouldn’t have went over. Honestly, Captain, there are enough real things in your life to worry over, don’t lose sleep over the things that are past us,” Galliet said.

Tiernan took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “I guess you’re right...”

“Of course I am. Now stop yammering away at me and get down to the Hold so you can see your family,” Galliet said.


End file.
